


Going Home Again

by Reulte



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-22 18:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9619484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reulte/pseuds/Reulte
Summary: Injured clones of the 501st are in the medical unit on Kamino.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is also on FFN.

Fives lay on his stomach feeling like some pastry as the bacta gel slathered on his skin worked its cool healing. He'd taken shrapnel and rock splinters at point blank range, every seam in the back of his armor covered by thousands of cuts, but the plastoid had held and he hadn't ended up as spatter on the canyon walls. Two metal splinters in the pit of his arm had nicked an artery and been life threatening though Kix had been at his side even before the baffles in his helmet had deactivated sufficiently to allow the sound of Kix's ongoing speech as he cataloged wounds, reported to the General, and verbally helped another trooper minister a less serious wound. There was one piece of metal in his hip that Fives had felt as it happened, that had _hurt_.

On the battlefield Fives felt – well, not comfortable – but familiar. He knew the pattern of actions, the sounds, the smells. Here, back at Kamino in the medical center, it was the unfamiliar. Strangers – most with his own face – moved in unusual patterns of action.  Fives didn't know with the certitude of being on a battlefield what was happening or what was good. He sighed and tried to make himself a little more comfortable and less self-conscious of his slathered nakedness. Two other clones, neither that he knew, were in the ward. One, a series of bacta packs on his legs, was either unconscious or sleeping. Or, not wanting to be interrupted, doing a very good imitation of either. The other was awake, in pain – Fives knew that look intimately – with a pack over his belly. Fives tried to make a joke of his own predicament, but the other clone had glared at him, then turned away muttering.

He could see his file though at the entrance. The small, card-size chip was green-marked for 'return to unit'. Fives could see the others patients files. There were all green-marked. All he had to do now was wait and try to get comfortable. He pushed his elbows down into the padded softness under his chest. There was a noise at the door – they were bringing in another patient. Fives turned and smiled as he saw Rex.

"Captain." He was pleased to see Rex. At least he would carry on a conversation.

"Good to see you, Fives," remarked Rex, but they were both looking at the Kaminoan as she turned and placed Rex's file chip in the holder by the door. Both breathed a sigh of relief as they saw the flash of green. Rex had a bacta pack on his right shoulder and one wrapped around his left hand. His face was banged up a bit. Fresh scrapes from meeting with sand or stone were touched with the gloss of bacta as was a deep red welt on his lower lip. His right eye was puffy, swollen shut, and developing a bruise with colors that would rival a Tatooine sunset.

"Really, Captain. You know you shouldn't remove your helmet in battle." Fives reprimanded with a grin.

"Better it than the head." He saw Fives' glance at his injuries and started to catalog them. "Right shoulder was a blaster wound just a few minutes after you took that explosion." Rex looked at Fives and nodded. "That was well done of you."

Fives straightened his shoulders back in pride and ignored the twinges of irritation from his wounds. Praise from Rex was dispensed rarely but it was the fountain of their courage.

"Anyway, damn arm went limp, but I had the other. Kix threw a bandage around it so it wouldn't flop around and I kept going. Right behind the General."

There was a noise, a snort from the other clone as he interrupted Rex. "Rushing the guns, I supposed. Don't the Jedi know anything else? 'We're going to rush the guns, men,'" he mocked. "Prepare to rush the guns."

Rex raised an eyebrow at Fives who shrugged.

"They think they're such a kriffing, inspiring site, light sabers flashing, clones dying as they rush the guns. Never seeing us. Never acknowledging us."

Fives glanced back at Rex then replied to the trooper who had returned to a sulky silence. "Well, our Jedi's pretty inspiring." Then he grinned. "Or inspiringly pretty."

"Why, thank you Fives." Ahsoka's voice came into the room before she did. "At least I hope you're talking about me and not the General."

Fives blushed pink then red as he realized he had no cover and no way to get one.

Ahsoka came to Rex with a data pad in her hand along with what looked like an old style book. She looked tired – like they all did after a battle. Lingering tenseness lined her shoulders. A bandage was around her ribs, partially covered by her bandeau while a gel pack was on the long, thin burn that stretched from her collarbone into the bandage and continued below it. She had scrapes and bruises all along her back and both arms, but nothing serious. "I knew you'd want the information as soon as possible, Rex." She flicked on the data pad and held it so Rex could view it. He struggled to sit and made it. Slowly a grin stretched over his face as he scanned the names.

"No dead." Rex said as he fell back into the cushioned pad. "No dead." He whispered again – this time in wonderment.

Other men might mark their achievements with medals or commendations or promotions. Rex marked his achievements in living men. There were three in bacta tanks – severe injuries – and four yellow marked, but that was all. Ahsoka touched the data pad and cataloged the injuries of those in the bacta tanks.

"Tank must have thought he was one and walked around a corner without a cover man. He took a lot of blaster hits."

Rex frowned, murmured. "That won't hurt nearly as much as the general getting hold of him for that kind of mess up. I sense a lot of practice in his near future." He glanced down at the data pad and nodded. He'd seen Naf go down early in the firefight. The last bacta tank held..Kix? He glanced at Ahsoka, his eyes questioning.  "Kix?"

"Kix was the one who actually was in the gunship pulling out the survivors when it exploded."

"You know medics." Five said from across the small room and she nodded as she held her one arm around her ribs. Rex wondered if they were hurting. Ribs did tend to ache after an injury.

"Anakin tried to give him a bubble but.."

"Line of sight," nodded Rex beginning to understand a Jedi's limitations after a year of fighting with two who actually tried to protect their men, who actually tried new tactics, new techniques.

"He breathed in flames." Ahsoka's voice quivered and her face was pale.

"But he'll be fine," asserted Rex as he saw the green check next to Kix' name. "He's already marked return to unit. That bubble of Anakin's must have done some good."

"Yes!" breathed out Fives excitedly. Kix was one of his buddies.

Ahsoka seemed to remember that Fives was there and walked over to where he was laying. There was nothing he could do about the lack of covering and he only hoped she would have the grace not to mention his bacta-slathered naked self.

She touched his arm and her fingers were warm. "Thank you, Fives, for shielding me when that explosion when off. It was all in too close and there was nothing I could have done." It had been true, her attention had been on Force-pushing falling debris from above. She kissed him softly on the cheek and he blushed further. "So, instead of being dead, I've only got two cracked ribs and a burn." She was halfway back to Rex as she turned around, "But the next time you jump on me, you can leave your armor back in the barracks."

Fives slammed his face into the small pillow and padding of the gurney's surface. The commander couldn't have meant that!

Both other clones made a noise; the one who'd been imitating sleep gave a laugh, the other something resembling a choking noise. Rex smiled and glanced down then grinned at Ahsoka and saw she was oblivious to the connotation of those words.

"I'm going to visit Echo next. A flash grenade went off right in front of him and did some burn damage to his retinas." She held up the book. "I'm going to read to him."

"He'll like that." Rex noticed Ahsoka suddenly pale. "You're not looking so well, Commander. Are you ok?" He strained to see if there was a medic, doctor or even a technician in the hall but his angle to the doorway and window prevented that.

She brought her fingers to her head and some color returned. "I'm fine."

"You're sure? A cracked rib can..."

"I'm fine."

Her voice was a snap so Rex backed down. He glanced at the door; surely someone would come in soon. He caught Fives' red face glance up at her short outburst and look at her curiously then at Rex, his face a startled question.

"Anyway, this book is one that Master Plo Koon gave me a long time ago. He said I should be aware of my heritage."

"Sounds interesting. What's it about?"

"Togruta mythology."

It was the moment that the unknown clone scoffed that Rex realized the problem with the commander.

"Children's stories." He muttered audibly. "Just like a Jedi to think we'd be interested in fairy tales."

Ahsoka gasped and her eyes teared up. She turned, moving towards the door in swift, Jedi movements.

"PADAWAN!" It was his command voice and Ahsoka's body stopped before she realized it. When she did, her face was dark with anger. Rex repeated himself. "Padawan. Come here."

She did so, her face pale and clouded in turns. He had no right to call her that.

"Relax, Ahsoka. Relax and breathe. Do one of those Jedi things to calm." She looked at him quizzically, but did as he directed. He waited until she seemed better. "I didn't think you'd answer to 'commander'." He said by way of apology.

She nodded, realizing she wouldn't have answered to anything.

"He's in pain, Ahsoka. We all are. I know you'll identify it if you," he paused at a loss for words, "look. This is a hospital. There is nothing here but pain. Even the victories here are painful. Don't let it overcome you. Do not let one angry trooper in pain stop you from helping your men. From reading to Echo. Echo will listen and be pleased and there will be no tolerating him when he returns to the unit, I promise you."

Ahsoka's eyes were doubtful.

Rex glanced at Fives. His head was again buried with only the tips of his still-pink ears showing and Rex knew he wouldn't mind being the butt of this joke.  He smiled, catching Ahsoka's eyes with his and nodded his face toward the naked trooper. "I didn't know you could get embarrassed all the way down to your..."

Ahsoka's voice burbled with laughter and Fives turned several shades redder, visible under the frosting of bacta and did, indeed, prove you could get embarrassed that far.

Ahsoka left and Rex breathed out deeply as he faced Fives.

"OK, trooper. Get your face out of that pillow before you asphyxiate."

Then he turned to the trooper who had commented, but his back was turned to them, anger tense on his shoulders. There was nothing to say. It had been pain and anger at losing brothers, friends, and no one understood that better than Rex. You couldn't get angry at that.  He sighed, empathizing with the wounded trooper. 

The trooper who had appeared to be sleeping lifted his eyelids and gave Rex a look of mild curiosity and respect.  "Who are you with?" 

"Five hundred first. Torrent Company."

The other nodded. "I'll remember that." He returned to his sleep, or imitation thereof.

Rex sighed and turned his attention back to his man. "Thanks, Fives."

"You think Echo's going to be intolerable when we return to our unit?" came the muffled voice of Fives. "I got kissed!"


	2. Blind Groping

Echo knew there were six other men in the ward with him – all blind in some way or another, all with translucent patches over their eyes. Listening had provided that information. He could make out movement but not much color - just the sterile whiteness of the room, the dark shade of hair, the lighter shade of skin. That did worry him but since there wasn't much color here to begin with he didn't know. He sighed. If he'd been the gregarious Fives he'd probably have made six new buddies out of these unknown brothers, but he wasn't Fives. He was Echo, the quiet one, the one in Torrent Company that knew the regulations, could explain the standards, could recite famous speeches of generals past and the lyrics to every lurid bar song from the Core to the furthest reaches of the Outer Rim . He liked having that reputation in Torrent but it did nothing for him here.

They all heard the soft noise as the door opened, but only Echo recognized that step even as a sunset body moved next to him.

"Commander?" It wasn't quite a question but not a sure identification.

"Right in one, Echo," she answered. "In the somewhat bruised and battered flesh." He heard the movement of interest from the other men. Any diversion to alleviate their boredom was welcome and female diversion was the best kind.

Echo grinned. She was alive.

The canyon had been narrow with tall walls, but it was the only pathway to a downed gunship of General Mundi's and eight wounded men so Torrent Company moved through that gully-canyon of blaster fire following General Skywalker and Commander Tano, light sabers an almost-solid shield for the men behind them. He'd seen Fives move up and grab the Z6 when Caber went down. A short time later – seconds? minutes? – time was immaterial on the battlefield, there was only sequence – Fives had whipped sideways, dropping the big blaster to one hand, its barrels still hissing in the soft rain, grabbing at Ahsoka with his newly-free arm, tucking his head over hers in the same movement as he had thrown himself over the little commander – both of them picked up and slammed against the rock as the explosion detonated at their feet in that narrowness. He had heard the startled cry of indignity, the explosion and the sudden yelp of pain all at the same time. And then Kix yelling, 'Makeahole!' the men moving aside for the medic as they maintained covering fire forward and up. Skywalker moving in to cover for his padawan's absence but still moving forward and there had been no time to do anything but press on. Echo hadn't known for sure until he heard her bright voice.

"How's Fives?" He asked about his brother, his best friend and his fiercest opponent in all things.

She giggled softly. "He's fine, but I'll save that story for a boring day in the mess." He laughed in pleasure – his two favorite people were alive. That was worth it, worth not knowing, worth not ever seeing them again if it came to that, worth not going home. He could see vague movement and it seemed she came near him. He saw the red, orange, yellow shade of her – that was good he noted to himself. Then he felt her touch his arm and grip his hand. He gripped hers back tightly, squeezed, and then relaxed so she could pull back her hand. She didn't let go and Echo wished the other guys in the ward could see him. HIS commander was visiting him. HIS commander was telling him more than 'get well and back in the field, soldier'. HIS commander was a girl – a very nice-looking girl who just happened to be one of the most enjoyable people to talk with in the entire 501st. And she was holding his hand.

Her voice turned hesitant and soft. "I brought a book to read you." She paused. "If you want me to. If you're really that bored."

"That would be great." If ONLY Fives could see him now

"It's just a kid's book. I've had it for ages. I mean, it's nothing special." Echo knew that as a lie. It was a book – special by its very nature of being a book, by being owned by someone under Jedi rules of poverty.

"No one has ever read to me," he said softly. Special because she was going to read it to him

He could see the movement as she turned her head. He supposed she was looking around for a chair. He knew there were none. There were no visitors to this hospital. He felt her lightly press her hands to his bed and then, with a light movement, she seated herself cross-legged next to him.

Echo almost died of glory. If only ANYONE in Torrent could see him now!

He knew a silly smile transfixed his features, but he didn't care. The entire room was quiet, the soft noises of movement hushed as they listened and Ahsoka, feeling their attention, turned toward the room reading a little louder so everyone could hear. After a few minutes, she started doing voices. Her imitation of Rex's command voice as a magic sword ordering the hero around brought a soft guffaw from Echo and someone else in the room also recognized her imitation of Admiral Yularen's voice as an enchanted, but very dignified bantha. She tried imitating Master Kenobi's calm voice for a ferocious dragon with the politest manners and that sent laughter quivering in half the men. She used the BD-3000 droid voice for Death and every man in the room loved that. When she finished the book there was scattered applause and spoken thanks. Echo could swear her sunset nearness turned a little brighter, a little more crimson. He definitely had red vision.

The sunset blur came nearer Echo's face and he could feel her breath on his skin, see her eye, wide and grey. "Rex is right; you ARE going to be intolerable when you get back to the unit."

"Am I green marked then?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't know." She said and he heard her fingers tap a data pad. "Let me check" A moment's pause. "No, yellow."

He heard the query in her voice, but couldn't answer it as his hopes fell. He knew what it was, really had suspected for a while. The colors had been oddly off. He no longer had the necessary color vision. Ahsoka's eyes were blue, not grey. He could feel Ahsoka's cool palm squeeze his hand and he tried to remember the feeling he'd had when she'd walked into the room. His two favorite people were alive and he told himself that was enough. Tried to make himself feel it and, after a moment, succeeded.

"Commander. Sir." It was one of the other voices in the room, soft and tentative; scared of asking but more scared of not knowing. "If it wouldn't be any problem, sir. Would you check if I'm yellow marked or green or…? If it wouldn't be any trouble, sir." Whoever it was didn't know how far she would go – a stranger, an officer, so obviously not a clone, so obviously not one of them. But she had read to them creating a moment of camaraderie and he was asking.

"Sure. What's your des?"

"CT-65-4321." He added his name. "I'm called Countdown." Echo wondered how much she knew about a clone's name; about how sometimes it was the only thing a man had to give.

She laughed softly as her nails tapped over the screen. "I like your name." Echo knew Countdown had blushed at that remark.

"You're yellow marked." Echo could see her move, turn to the room. "Anyone else?" she offered and Echo felt possessive pride in his heart. HIS commander.

There was a small clamor from the clones all eager to know if they'd be going home – back to their units. Another trooper called out his designation and her reply of 'green-marked' brought a general air of joviality to the ward. It didn't last, though. Everyone else was yellow marked except one man whose designation had brought the call of 'red'.

There was silence in the room then. Echo knew every man ached for their brother, knowing he'd never make it home. Echo wanted to apologize for the red-marked man who had said nothing, simply moved in some way, but Echo had heard his commander's quick, soft gasp, her soft footstep and knew she'd gone to try to offer some comfort. She returned to his side and Echo's brothers turned in their bunks, giving him and his commander as much privacy as they could. Echo leapt into the silence before it turned awkward. "How's the Captain?" He'd known Rex was alive; she never would have used his voice otherwise.

"He's doing ok, a blaster wound in his shoulder, burn on his arm and hand." Her voice turned fierce. "I should have been there to lift the wings of the gunship. It was burning when they went in." Echo reached out and patted what he hoped was her arm as she continued speaking. "There was just too much going on for the general to handle everything and it exploded and." 

He heard her breathing, a bit harsh, a bit excited then a sad little exhale.

"I should have been there."

"Me too," pointed out Echo. "But we weren't." He could feel the strain of her hand, a feeling almost like electricity as she waited for more, then relaxation as she realized he had just uttered something wise. A quick gesture with her hand had his palm against her cheek and he sucked in a breath.

"Thanks Echo." She brought his hand away and he ached to leave it there, to comfort his commander, this child-warrior he followed, to let her know that he'd follow her to death, that all of her men would volunteer for anything she asked of them. Her breathing evened with a soft sigh. "Actually, I came here to bring Rex the wounded file. You know how prickly he gets until he's knows."

"Yes sir." Echo retreated into administrative details. "Wounded and dead clones mean a lot of work. He's still trying to fill vacancies left by Teth. So every death…"

"There aren't any."

"What? But that's …" Echo mouth was open with nothing to say. "No company has ever…" He swallowed. "I saw Naf fall at least 50 meters," he pointed out almost accusingly.

"Yep. He's in a bacta tank. We sort of caught him, a little at a time. Between everything else. So are Kix and Tank – in bacta tanks, I mean. We brought back all eight of Mundi's men and didn't lose any of our own. And, since it is apparently important - there are only four of Torrent's men marked yellow - you, Naf, Twenty-three and Keel.

Echo grinned crookedly in satisfaction, put his arms behind his head and slowly leaned back into the cushions of the cot.

Then Countdown spoke up. "I think all of Torrent Company's going to be pretty intolerable for some time to come."


	3. Listening to Unspoken Messages

Ahsoka moved quickly down the silent hallway of the hospital seeking an exit.

She had to get out, away from those desolate emotions, even if just for a short time. She needed to separate herself from this pain, inspect it, tease it apart and understand it.

Fives had been fun to tease, as he always was, although she had caught an inexplicable sexual spike in the Force from him after she'd said thank you.

Rex had been Rex, thoughtful, caring, concerned, less in pain from his own wounds than from losing men. She'd brought him good news and she'd felt his elation. She'd caught a sense of approval from one of the unknown clones along with the pain from all of them.

Rex had been right about looking for the pain.

She hadn't noticed it as she had gradually moved closer to the wounded, further away from the administration portions of the hospital, but now she could feel it as separate from herself, recognize it as something from outside of herself, and deal with it, and shield it from her.

It wasn't just pain from the body wounds of the men. It was a mélange of physical pain, soul-pain, sorrow, loneliness, suffering, grief, separation, fear, loss of identity, loss of function, desolation.

It would overwhelm her, tear her heart apart, if she let it. As she listened, she could hear quiet sobs drifting on the Force from somewhere and recognized they came from everywhere. Not the crying from any one soldier but the combine weeping of them all. Rex was right, this place was pain.

There had been a feeling of being lost, missing, when she'd told Echo he was yellow-marked. Then she had felt his joy that she was alive, that his favorite brother, Fives, was alive. Yet his gladness was tainted in some way, as though he were hanging on to her hands over a cliff and could feel his hands slipping. She had never seen him at a loss for words before, but his grin had been sublime when she'd told him there were no dead in Torrent Company. He'd been happy they'd survived, but his undercurrent of feelings had been regret and sadness that he wouldn't be with them.

She recalled the red-marked trooper in Echo's ward. Helpless sorrow had enveloped him like a dark cloud as he curled on his side in a fetal position and she hadn't known what to say. He had shuddered as she touched his shoulder.

"Thank you, sir." He had whispered, in genuine gratitude, for that bleak news.

He hadn't known. Hadn't anyone, one of the technicians perhaps, told him? Then he had drawn into himself, unwilling to share that burden of being blind. Ahsoka had caught his last thoughts; of being useless, of no longer being a trooper, of dying, of never going home and a sob had caught in her throat. He'd been the reason she had needed to get out, just for a few minutes.

Ahsoka found the front of the hospital and walked out onto the solid decking above the wild waves. A wind blew tugging at her lekku. A wind always blew on Kamino, and she sat, cross-legged on the slick, damp deck.

The pain she perceived was not going to deter her from visiting every one of Torrent Company in here. It only made her more determined. The pain came from the men. She knew she alleviated some of that shadowed sorrow simply by visiting her men. So, she would visit them.  All of them. 

She just needed a few minutes of meditation. Her soft breath joined the wind. She let her doubts and fear and that constant pain soar out to the sea.

Commander Gree almost tripped over General Skywalker's padawan as he stepped from the hospital entrance. Even with her eyes closed though, she moved to one side, Jedi-quick.

Gree glanced down noticing sea water on her face, took another looked and saw those droplets were tears.

He paused, wondered what he'd do if it were Commander Offee sitting there.

Gree bent down to one knee, removing his helmet, eye-level with the young Togruta.

"Commander Tano." He said softly. She opened her eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, Commander Gree." She glanced around. "I guess it wasn't the best place to meditate." She said wryly.

"No." He shook his head, then asked again, "Are you alright?"

Ahsoka nodded.

Gree had never been one for many words, though she knew his shortness didn't indicate impatience or a quick temper. He was amazingly social, simply quiet, with no need to speak anything more than necessary.

He indicated her tears with a finger though it took a moment for her to understand his gesture.

"It's painful here." She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.

Gree nodded in understanding and she saw, with recent sensitivity from meditating, that he did understand. If not that feeling in the Force, then he understood in sympathy with the other clones. The possibility it would happen to him one day. The memory of it happening to his men.

"Which men have you lost?  I heard Torrent come in last night with wounded." 

"None. Lots of wounded, but everyone made it out alive."

"That's unheard of, you know." He reached out a hand to help her up and she took it, rising gracefully from the metal deck.

"No, I didn't."

Gree nodded. "No company has gone into battle and not had dead"

"Oh."

"Until now," he gave her a gentle smile of approval.

She ducked her head. That sounded suspiciously like a compliment. His words made her feel proud. She wasn't sure a Jedi should feel pride. It was far too close to arrogance. Then she decided she could feel proud of her men. They'd done a good job. She smiled back. "Thank you."

They stood in silence for a moment, feeling the wind against them. Before Gree turned to go, Ahsoka spoke into that moment of camaraderie. "What are you doing here," she asked.

"Signing off red marks." His face went grim, white around the lips and ears, and there was darkness in him as he said that. He seemed in physical pain as he spoke.

Ahsoka looked down, not wanting to see his pain, then up, into his eyes with new determination. She considered him a friend, a co-hunter in this war and she would offer to share his pain, if she could. Lightly, she touched his arm with her hand.

"We didn't have any red-marked."

He was moved by her concern, staring at her slender hand. Barriss often touched him like that when he'd lost men. She'd said it was to offer comfort. It seemed to be true for Commander Tano as well.

He patted her hand with his. Barriss had told him it was an appropriate touch. "No dead and no red. That is very good for Torrent Company."

His words brought back a wisp of a memory from the blind clone and she frowned, trying to bring it into focus. "Can you tell me more about the red-marked?"

"No. I can't." His voice was soft, devoid of inflection, and he looked at her with longing in his eyes. She could feel some yearning, something he wanted to say, a void, but couldn't catch it. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Why don't you visit Commander Offee?" He gave her a half grin, one side of his lips curving up in amusement, and chuckled. "General Unduli thinks you're the bad influence, but I know better."

Impishly she smiled at Gree, then at his back as he continued towards the transport platform.

Ahsoka felt she had shared something important with Gree. She had the odd sensation that he had tried to share something important with her.


	4. A Short Conversation

"Barriss, are you busy?"

"Only as much as usual, Ahsoka," replied the calm voice over the com link.

"That's great. So you have plenty of time to help me." Ahsoka heard Barriss laugh.

"It depends upon what kind of trouble you'll be bringing me."

"Your kind of trouble, Barriss," came the easy reply. "I just saw Gree and he said you'd be here for a few days resupply."

"Commander Gree was going to the hospital on Kamino for some administrative duties." Barriss thought Asoka was too familiar with rank and suspected her implied correction hadn't even been noticed.

"Yes, that's where I am. Torrent Company came in last night and I'd like you to look at some troopers. As a healer."

"Kamino has the highest standards and the most advanced technologies of healing  I'd simply be redundant and in the way."

"Please come. It's just odd."  Ahsoka never pleaded for herself, but she was very attached to her Master and to the men in her company. 

Barriss wondered sometimes if that was a weakness or strength. Master Unduli would no doubt say it was a weakness. Barriss wasn't sure she agreed. Sometimes, she caught affection for her from her own troops. It wasn't attachment though she wasn't sure what it was. Appreciation, perhaps?

"Well, I'd have to clear it with Master Unduli."  Her voice sounded hesitant even to herself.

"You can tell her that if you don't come, I'll try healing them myself." Ahsoka's voice was mischievous.

"I can't decide if she would think that a minor disaster or a major one."

"Major," declared Ahsoka. "She's seen me try." Healing was not her forte and her mishaps under the healing teacher were considered best practices to avoid. "Tell her it's following her own orders to practice your skills and what better place to practice?"

That made too much sense to the ever-practical Padawan Offee for her to turn down the offer.


	5. Transforming Desolation

"It's desolate, Barriss, with all the pain and crying from the men in the Force. I almost got lost in it." Ahsoka shivered. "It creeps up on you and you don't notice unless you're paying attention."

Barriss nodded. "The shadow of pain is common in the wounded. But I've never felt it so helpless before. It's, it's…" she couldn't find another word.

"Desolate," put in Ahsoka and Barriss nodded.

"Perhaps it is because of the number of wounded," ventured Barriss as they moved down the hallways.

Yet, there was a difference in this than what she'd felt in the wounded on the battlefield or even in the shipboard med unit. She was glad Master Unduli had agreed to allow her to practice healing alone even if it was only in the controlled space of Kamino hospital. Previously her healing experienced had either been to other Jedi, Masters able to oversee her work through the Force, or in tandem with Master Unduli on the battlefield.

Ahsoka trotted down a hallway, Barriss following. Barriss almost found it hard to breathe under the cloud of pain and … fear? Why would there be fear? She tried to breathe out the fear, but there was so much of the dark emotion.

"Are you ok, Barriss."

"Yes, Ahsoka." Barriss felt the anguish wash through her as she grabbed Ahsoka's warm hand. Together in friendship, they were stronger. "But you're right, this is much darker than anything I've ever felt."

"Well, prepare yourself." Ahsoka gave her hand a squeeze. "The men in here are blind in some way and I do want you to look at Echo. But there's another trooper in here that's in really bad condition and I think all the men in here would like you to look at him first, too." Ahsoka pushed open the door.

This time, several men who recognized her footsteps.

"Hi, guys," Ahsoka said brightly.  "I just couldn't stay away and I've even brought my friend, Barriss, Commander Offee. She's a healer and I just wanted her to .." Ahsoka couldn't continue in the face of those men and those dark emotions. Was this a mistake? What if Barriss couldn't help?

Echo, as usual, had the right words. "Here, Commander. Come stand by me and let Commander Offee see what she can do." Ahsoka went by his bunk and took his hand. He'd let them know there were no guarantees, just effort.

Barriss couldn't help but respond to the aura around the man curled on his bed. She touched him and his pain made tears in her eyes. He considered himself dead and the words flashed in him like a litany.

 _Red dead red dead. No eyes, can't see, red dead red dead_. Barriss stroked his dark hair back from his face as if he were a child. He was too pained even to shed tears, the litany pushing him into a state of catatonia.

She felt, reaching into his unseeing eyes with the Force. The bacta could heal most tissue but it needed a living cell as a template. Whatever had happened to this clone had destroyed every cell in his eyes. Softly, she brushed his face, touched his cheek and positioned him. She noted that he didn't move from where she had placed him though she had said nothing.

Even the Master Unduli had a stiffness when Barriss positioned her for co-healing; a want to move from how she was placed, an independence that she knew best. -Barriss reached into the clone with a tiny string of intent. There was none of the instinctive resistance she found in the Force sensitive. Mentally, it was as though he had stepped aside and followed her into himself.

She caught his thought, _bred to follow order, sir, spoken or implied_ .  She had expected the intimacy to be painful as it sometimes was with other Jedi; but this was intimacy of a different sort. She caught unspoken intention, _I have your back,_ and he was out of the way.

 _Here._ She opened a cell and took the cytoplasm, sifted through it. She found what was needed. Gently, Barriss pressed open another cell, lengthening it. It tried to return to its original shape and Barriss patiently formed it as she wanted. When she had finished, she inspected her work carefully, comparing to the structure of her own optic nerve. It would serve.

She 'woke' it, nudged it into wakefulness, into mitosis. She waited the few seconds until it divided and then she ran one of the daughter cells thru his blood system, choosing appropriate blood vessels until it rested in his other eye. The Kaminoans had the technology to do this, why hadn't they?

She was so close he caught her thought and replied to it. _Expendable men don't get extraordinary treatment._

She caught her breath and tears came to her eyes. _You are not expendable, Tiess._

Finished, she pulled herself to the wardroom and put her hand on his. She gave his face a final touch, ran her fingers through hair in a soothing movement. He took a deep breath. Barriss knew it for a healing breath.

"I have done what I could. I think it will work. You should notice something in about three days."

His hand clutched hers tightly. "Thank you, sir. No matter what, thank you." He had no expectation about the healing. He was sure he was still a lost man, but his sheer, raw gratitude that she had tried shook her more than anything she had ever experienced.

She turned to see Ahsoka sternly glaring at a technician, pulling red tape off of a file card.

"I'll see that he gets tested daily for a week." If you do any more healing of, well. If you do any healing at all, make sure to tell the technician or the trooper to mention it and we'll re-do testing." He motioned to the file as if in explanation.

"What does yellow marked mean?" asked Ahsoka.

The technician had an air of helpfulness that begged her questions, if she only knew what to ask. "Yellow means more testing. Full recovery runs about 50% for yellow."

Ahsoka and Barriss looked at each other and simultaneously gave a determined nod.

Barriss moved to look at Echo next.

"Oh," she explained absently as her eyes focus beyond him, "This is simple. There's something. Maybe a contaminant from the phosphorous - something crystalline in the aqueous." She tilted her head, seeing through the Force. "It's reflecting back light of a certain frequency."

Her fingers delicately positioned Echo's face, feeling his joy at knowing what was wrong. He had met her on Geonosis, even helped her climb the debris after she and Ahsoka had destroyed the generator. Echo had faith in her. He knew he'd be going back to his …. Barriss blinked.

His feeling swept over her. _Home_ . His emotions buoyed her. Again came that protective feeling of _I've got your back, Commander_. The stepping aside as she worked.

A few minutes later, through the translucent patch Echo could see the blue green shade of her skin and he sighed contentedly. "Thank you, Commander Barriss. I can't express my thanks any more than simple words."

She smiled back. "You already did." Touching him, she felt his momentary confusion and then that warmth of _home_.

Healing was normally draining work, but the clones didn't fight her, didn't question, didn't ask for explanations. To a man they gave her their total trust, seemed to take her back protectively and step aside. Their simple raw gratitude was bracing.

They'd almost never experienced… Barriss felt for the right feeling … individualized attention before.

When Ahsoka and Barriss left the ward it was with the gracious thanks of every man there, all green-marked except the yellow-marked Tiess, gratitude and hope replacing desolation.


	6. Amusement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: SCI = spinal cord injury.

"Why doesn't he have a breather?" Ahsoka stared up at the figure of Kix as he floated in the bacta tank. His eyes were open and he seemed to be watching her.

The technician named Cord answered. "He has lung injuries and bacta needs to touch the tissue which requires healing. We are flushing an oxy-air mix with the liquid bacta."

"Oh. That makes sense." Ahsoka put her hand to the glass of the tank.

Cord spoke again, almost as an afterthought. "The burn was surprisingly superficial." Ahsoka would be sure to tell Skyguy.

"Hey, Kix. I don't know if you can hear me…" Ahsoka looked up into his brown eye so familiar to her. Kix's individuality showed in his Force signature, in his personality, in the loops and lightning of his hair.

"He can," said Barriss and the technician together even as Ahsoka caught the intensity of Kix's attention.

"I thought wounded in bacta tanks were put in a sleeping state?" She could feel Kix listening, his curiosity merging with hers.

"Only if the healing will take longer than 10 hours or so," replied Cord with a shrug. "He was right at that limit and I would have, but the Kaminoan decided that it would be better for him to stay awake."

Both Ahsoka and Barriss shuddered at the enforced inactivity, the containment of men whose very nature was physical activity. Echo was the least active of all the clones Ahsoka knew and even he put in several hours each day of physical training, armored weapons practice, and sparring.

"Do you read to them?" asked Ahsoka softly, as her fingers caressed the curved glass of Kix's bacta tank. "Play music or something."

She looked around for a holovid but saw only the blue white walls. If they were awake, they could see. If they could see they'd be bored out of their minds. If they were bored, they'd think…

What would they think? If they were wounded and didn't know… anything? 

What would they think of beyond their injuries, their dead brothers, what they'd lost? 

Ahsoka remember the sobbing of thousands of wounded men.

"You're green-marked, Kix." She said realizing no one had told him. "You're coming home." She felt his relief at finally knowing and curiosity. Of course curiosity, he was one of the medics.

"No dead, no red. There's only Naf, Keel and Twenty-three yellow marked." His deep satisfaction covered her with warmth. She thought she saw him smile through the thick liquid but it was difficult to tell. She turned back to one of the technicians.

"Do you even just talk to them?"

"No." His head tilted as though wondering why someone would do that. "What would be the purpose?"

Ahsoka made a noise in her throat as she cornered the man and the technician backed up a step. She leaned forward and her voice rose in indignation.

"So they won't be lonely!" She pressed the book into his chest. "Here. You will take this and you will read it to them and ..."

"I can't do that, sir."

"Is there a rule against it," snarled Ahsoka, canines bared, prepared to take on the Kaminoans if necessary.

"No, but..."

"Why not?"

His mouth moved but no sound emerged.

And she knew.

No one had ordered it.

The Kaminoans weren't concerned with the clones' feelings or their comfort. The Kaminoans were concerned only with their health and that, not even as individuals, but as a group. For the Kaminoans, the clones were interchangeable.

The clones, stoic brothers, had never known anything different.  This was their normal. 

_ No chairs _ she thought suddenly,  _ no visitors. _ Ahsoka wanted to cry.

"You will take it," she repeated firmly, pressing the book in his hands. "You will read it to the men in the bacta tanks and you will read it to men in the blind ward and you will read it to anyone else who shows the least little interest. And you will play music and you will bring in a holovid when there is a bolo game and..." Ahsoka was running out of thoughts but the clone was nodding and holding the book with reverence.

"And you will tell them if they are green marked or yellow!" Barris cut in softly, remembering Tiess's desolation of not knowing, almost as great as his despair at being red-marked.

"Yes sir." It was an order from a superior officer and he knew it would never be countermanded. The Kaminoans didn't care about things like that. He wondered why he had never thought of it.

With reverence, he touched the cover of the book, tracing the fantastic creature on the cover. He'd never touched a book before.

"Book." He looked at Commander Ahsoka. "Do you think Book would be a good name?"

Ahsoka was too surprised to answer, so Barriss spoke up. "I think Book is a very good name."

The technician smiled. "I think so, too. Please, call me Book."

Cord clapped his brother on the shoulder with a grin. "Hey, Book. I think it's about time we got this guy out. I'll need some help."

The intensity that was Kix flared. Barriss understood and answered it. "The liquid will drain from the tank. If you can, remember to breathe out. That will help empty your lungs of the liquid." She was silent, her face questioning, wondering what he was trying to communicate, and then she smiled. "Yes, I can help purge your lungs."

She listened. This clone, a medic, visualized in images so crystal clear, it was easy to understand what he wanted. He had recognized her use of the Force, had tried to attract her attention through it, to ask her and she had listened. He wanted to know what he could do to help. He wanted to understand what would happen. She smiled softly and began talking to him, explaining, as the liquid began to drain from the tank.

While the liquid burbled from Kix's bacta tank, Ahsoka moved to the other men to touch their consciousness with the Force as she spoke to them. It almost seemed as if they reached out to her. Tank mentally squirmed even as he reached out his attention as she came to his bacta tank.

"You know the General will have some words with you about that." Shame reached out, but mixed with gladness. She'd told him he was green marked. Ahsoka felt his happiness at being able to have that practice with the General, to be able to return to his bunk bruised and sore and reprimanded by Captain Rex. To share his embarrassment with his brother in the mess. To make sure he never did that again.  _ To go home _ .

She moved to Naf, his appreciation to her and the General for  _ trying _ to catch him when his belaying line had snapped amid blaster fire was foremost in his mind. Naf had a broken back, his spinal column torn and ripped in several places just under his shoulders. She apologized.

"There was just so much going on, Naf. He'd catch you for an instant and then have to block fire, then I'd catch you and have to let go. We are sorry, Naf. It's something we will need to work on more.

Book held up Naf's card file with newly attached green label. "We tested him just before you came in. SCI's are always iffy. He looked at Ahsoka, having heard her words as she spoke to Naf. "If you can, try to protect the spinal column and brain."

Ahsoka nodded fiercely and Barriss added her agreement. "It's nerve tissue that can heal imperfectly."

Ahsoka moved back to help Barriss and the technicians with Kix as the liquid drained. Ahsoka didn't know what to do, but Kix was part of her company and she felt she should be there.

He was leaning against a bar in the tank, his face pale and his mouth moving. He appeared in distress as Cord opened part of the tank.

"You are not drowning, Kix." Barriss' voice was firm and the look on his face lost most of its fear. "It only feels that way because it is liquid in your lungs. Don't think too much about breathing. Your body knows there is oxygen, trust it." He gave a slight nod

Barriss moved beside Cord and took Kix's arm under his shoulder, her other hand on his back. Cord went to Kix's other arm, helping him from the tank, Kix half bent. Barris was patting and stroking her hand on his back. Ahsoka, beside Barriss, had her arm also under Kix's shoulder to help support him. His arm was between the two girls, and it circled around her waist for support. Absently, Ahsoka patted his hand as she watched Barriss 'push' with the Force. It was the same as pushing droids and debris in battle, but with an infinitesimally more delicate touch.

Kix convulsed forward, his muscles tightening, and vomited liquid into a container provided by Cord. The fluid from his lungs was interspersed with black and red strings of slime, remnants of burnt flesh and blood. Barriss pushed again and Kix shook, then once again tightened and threw more liquid from his lungs. His arm dropped from Ahsoka's waist as he tried to stand. Still weak, his arm flailed a bit, then settled on Barriss. Barriss touched his back, felt deep within him for any further contamination and found none.

Cord's strength held Kix, one hand on his back and one arm hooked high around Kix's chest. Kix had one arm over Barriss' shoulder, holding himself upright. His other hand covering his…

Both girls suddenly realized they were holding a naked man.

"Permission to cover myself, sirs," coughed Kix weakly as he made a sour face and spat some fluid remnant from his mouth into the container.

As one, and with Jedi quickness, Ahsoka and Barriss spun from Kix, facing the doorway. Book moved forward to drape a blanket over Kix.

Kix's arm slowly, reluctantly, moved from Barriss' shoulder. She could feel his emotions.  _ Thank you. Thank you for helping. Thank you for explaining. Thank you for being _ . Then Barriss caught his soft laughter; mostly joy and some amusement at their reaction to his nakedness.

"They are all laughing!" hissed Barriss in consternation, her face turning a dark jade in embarrassment.

Ahsoka felt their amusement in the Force and her face turned a bright sunset. Their amusement intensified. But she felt something else from the men in the ward – Kix and technicians as well as the men in the bacta tanks. It was pride, affection; something stronger than that dark miasma of pain, fear and sorrow. Hope.


	7. Chapter 7

Ahsoka and Barriss left the bacta tank room after making sure all six men there were green-marked, the three men from Torrent and three other men, two who'd been yellow-marked. After checking Ahsoka's data pad and finding Twenty-three green marked, they went in search of Keel.

They found him, stiffly curled on his side in a room with another trooper. Keel's mind was crying, sobbing, screaming for help but he didn't notice the two commanders in his darkness. Barriss reached out, but couldn't touch his mind. She couldn't touch the other man either.

"I can't find him." Barriss said. "Keel's not there. It's all wind and noise."

Ahsoka saw his missing hair, newly shaved; the red scrapping of his skin both burnt red and bloody pink. It was a blaster wound on the side of his head. Ahsoka stared at his skin on his skull; stared at that large red spider-shaped wound which was the flare of the blast. It was so familiar.

"Chopper." She murmured, "We'll ask Chopper."

She lifted her wrist and spoke on the comlink. "Coric. I'd like to talk to Chopper. Can you ask him to come down here?"

"Affirmative, commander," replied Sergeant Coric.  

"I think there's a gunship due to make a pickup, He can make it and we'll meet him at the front of Kamino medical. Thanks, Coric." She flicked off the comlink and turned to Barriss. Barriss' face was tense, as though she had lost her mooring. Ahsoka recognized this is what had happened to her.

"Come on, Barriss, let's go to the front and meditate while we wait for Chopper." She tugged at Barriss' hand and Barriss followed. "Only this time, I'll make sure to not sit in the doorway." Barriss gave her a wan smile.

"Commander Gree mention he almost tripped over you."

They passed by the room where Rex and Fives had been. Fives was gone as were the other two clones, probably out-processing but Rex was still there, alone. Ahsoka pulled Barriss into the room, wanting to let Rex know about the men of Torrent Company.

"Commander Tano. Commander Offee. It is good to see you." Rex smiled, a little more formal in front of another company's Commander.

"Captain Rex." Barriss nodded her greeting. He had a solid Force signature, like a strong tree for shade and fruit and shelter. She felt better basking in that secure, pleased presence. She felt the pain of a thousand men recede, like the tide moving out to sea, like clouds drifting away on the wind.

"Better than good, Rex," said Ahsoka with a smile. "Everyone is green marked now except Keel." Her smile fell a bit. "He has a blaster wound to his head and Barriss says it's strange in his mind, all wind and noise. Chopper's going to meet us at the front. I hope he can help. He's had a head wound so maybe can shed some insight into Keel."

Rex paused, and then frowned. "Did you say Chopper is coming down here? To Kamino?

"Sure. I called Coric and asked him to send Chopper here. "

Rex cursed. Ahsoka blinked. Rex never cursed. Not in front of her. Not in front of anyone. He let loose those Mando'a words only in the privacy of his helmet and only on the battlefield.

"No. No. Open your wrist com for me." Confused she did, holding it for his convenience.

"Coric. Rex here. Cancel Commander Tano's order for Chopper. He is not, I repeat, not to come here."

"Flight's gone, sir." replied his second.

Rex made a face that scared Ahsoka. Barriss gasped at his stab of fear for the other man.

"Was he on it?" Rex's voice demanded.

Coric paused. "I didn't see him leave. Just gave the order and assumed he'd follow it."

"Go to the hanger deck. Look for Chopper and if you cannot find him, you will call back that ship on Commander Tano's orders and make sure Chopper is not on it." Rex's voice was firm.

"Yes, sir." They all knew Coric had come to attention with those words.

"Get back to me as soon as you know whether or not he is on that ship." Rex nodded to Ahsoka and she flicked the comlink off.

"Why shouldn't Chopper come to Kamino?" 

Rex chewed at his bottom lip, then spoke to Barriss.

"Commander Offee, this is information regarding Torrent Company personnel. May I ask you to step out of the room?"

"Of course, Captain." She moved into the hallway, then into another ward where there were more wounded. She could help these men.

"Rex, why..." Ahsoka began as she saw Barriss move into another ward.

"Chopper has not had good experiences on Kamino."

"But he's not wounded so it's not like anything would happen?" She had vague fears she couldn't define.

"That doesn't matter to Chopper." Rex said. "If you make him come here, he'll be dead before the transport lands. There is nothing that will get him on this planet alive ever again."

"I didn't mean..." Ahsoka's eyes glittered as tears formed. Rex tried reaching her fingers into good hand, held back by the shoulder pack. Absently, she moved her hand into his. "I just asked Coric to ask him. It wasn't an order." She squeezed his fingers and Rex tried to squeeze back.

"Coric doesn't know about this and he'd say something like 'Commander wants you planetside, Chopper.' And how would that sound to Chopper?" Rex asked gently.

"Like an order." Ahsoka replied, nodding in understanding.

Her comlink beeped and she flicked it on for Rex. Coric's voice was on the other end.

"He's sitting on some crates, sir. Said there had to be some mistake. I can have a flyer take him down or maybe the next transport." Coric's voice held anger at Chopper's unexplainable disobedience.

Ahsoka laughed lightly, Rex's relief was palatable.

"No, Coric. It was a mistake and Chopper knew it. Commanders Tano and Offee will be on the  _ Resolute _ shortly."


	8. Chapter 8

Ahsoka was actually glad to be on the  _ Resolute,  _ away from the pain and sorrow of Kamino. She didn't think Barriss felt the same way. Barriss had felt the darkness of Kamino medical but now was almost floating on the gratitude of the clones she had helped.

"Barriss. I should explain about Chopper."  Ahsoka hesitated and held her lower lip in her teeth for a moment wondering how to explain Chopper's... eccentricities.  "You know we're going to talk to him because he's had a head wound similar to Keel?"

"You said he might be able to give us insight into what Keel is going through."

"Ye-es, but it's not going to be easy."

Barriss raised her eyebrows. "Doesn't he like his brothers?"

"It's hard to tell. I think so, but he doesn't. He won't look you in the eyes." Ahsoka chewed at her lower lip again, then released it with a sigh. "He doesn't like women either. That is nothing personal. And don't use the Force on him."

Barriss' eyebrows rose. "Am I permitted to breathe?"

"Not heavily." Ahsoka told her friend with a soft laugh.

* * *

 

Chopper was in his usual seat, in the rear corner of the mess with one wall behind him, the scarred side of his face to the other wall. He was in armor and his helmet was by his side, the ever present data pad in his hands. He had a cup of caf in front of him as well as two cups of tea for the Jedi commanders. He hadn't known a Jedi yet who didn't drink tea and it seemed a courtesy as well as a silent apology for not going to Kamino, to have it ready for them.

He knew when they walked in. All the men in the mess became a little straighter. Hardcase stopped in the middle of a rude nerfherder joke he was telling. Pulsar turned to watch them. Coric, as Rex's second-in-command, rose from his table to greet them, welcoming the other commander to the  _ Resolute _ .

Commander Tano led the other girl to Chopper's table and Chopper stood at attention even as he looked between the two commanders.

"Barriss this is CT 4523. Chopper, Commander Offee of the 41st Elite. She was with us at Geonosis's most recent battle. She's a Jedi healer."

Commander Offee looked at his scars, but Chopper saw it was professional interest instead of that horror look, so he made no comment although his muscles tensed.

"May I ask, CT-4523 how you received that wound? Her voice was soft, modulated. The Kaminoans had very soft, modulated voices.  It was a very Kaminoan speech pattern and Chopper hated her for that.

"Yes, sir." Chopper was surprised at her formality. He took a deep breath. She wasn't Kaminoan. He set aside his hatred. "You can call me Chopper, sir. If you prefer."

"Thank you, Chopper. Are those injuries blaster fire or explosion?"

"Both, sir."

She blinked at that, perhaps surprised he'd survived. He was surprised himself, those few times he actually thought about it.

"The combination is very interesting. May I have access to your medical file?"

Chopper clenched his jaw and looked down at his caf. "No, sir." That could be a demerit for insubordination but he felt too vulnerable.

He felt that oddness around him and by her stillness he knew she was using the Force. 

"Stop that!" he demanded, angrily glaring just over the top of her head. 

He hadn't been very quiet. From the corner of his eye he caught Coric standing to come over. He felt ill. That would be a demerit. His record had been clean since he started the 501st. He stared at the table, silent.

"CT 4523, I apologize. I am deeply sorry for what I have done." She gave one of those Jedi bows, but held it and Chopper wondered what he was supposed to do.

"Don't use the Force on me again." He thought a moment, chills crawling up his spine. He considered leaving the mess, running.  _ You can't run far enough, fast enough,  _ his mind reminded him.

She moved up from the bow to face him and he saw, from the corner of his eye, Commander Tano's gesture to Coric to not bother them.

Commander Tano sat. "Oh, you got tea. Thank you, Chopper." Commander Offee also sat and took her cup of tea in her hands.

"Mmm, this is good." Ahsoka tried to cover the rough exchange. "I don't think they have a mess in the hospital."

Chopper sat, flinching at the mention of Kamino hospital, remembering. "No. They don't." He took a drink of caf, proof he wasn't on Kamino. "I was told you wanted to talk with me." In a way, he liked having two people to talk with. It wasn't as obvious that you weren't looking at them.

"'We've been down in the hospital wards, making sure that everyone comes back to the  _ Resolute _ . Barriss is a healer and she very kindly agreed to help me. No one died, Chopper and we only had four yellow. Barriss has dropped that number to one."

Chopper glanced, from the corner of his eye, at the girl drinking her tea. She was more generous that she seemed.

"Keel is yellow-marked, Chopper. I don't think he's going to be able to come home without help."

Chopper was silent for a moment. Remembering those white walls, the slow bubbling pump of the bacta tank, the Kaminoans looking, talking, judging….

"What can I do," he asked, as much to interrupt his thoughts as to offer his help.

Commander Offee spoke. "Keel has a blaster wound to the head. Very similar to yours, although not as ..." she paused.

Chopper provided the word, though it wasn't the first word he thought of. That was 'ugly'.

"Extensive."

She nodded. "That's a very good word for it. Not as extensive as your wound seems to be."

Chopper looked down at his caf and rubbed a thoughtful knuckle over his lips. "What's he doing?"

Both girls looked at him in confusion.

"What's he doing? You looked at him with the Force. You're asking me to help. That means that something is wrong inside his mind." He ran his knuckle hard over his teeth. It hurt, but not as much as remembering.

"Yes." Said Commander Offee. "But he seems to be going into some sort of catatonia. We noticed that in another man; also red-marked, that was talking himself into catatonia. In Keel, there is no Keel inside him. Just wind."

"He's there." Said Chopper quietly, contemplating a nameless red-marked man. "What else?"

"Noise, so much noise. Like the battlefield, only worse." Commander Offee sounded as though she wanted to cry. "Screams so loud they hurt."

Chopper shuddered at that memory but when he spoke his voice was firm. "He's there and a battlefield is good." Chopper's hands were trembling and he moved them to his lap where no one could see.

"Why is that good?" Ahsoka set her tea on the table.

It means he's still fighting. He hasn't given up. A battlefield is familiar, common ground. A place where he can fight." He was looking at the tabletop, seeing horrors they couldn't see.

"It's chaos!" Barriss said.

A half-grin showed on Chopper's face. "It's our kind of chaos then. Wind and battlefield chaos. What else? Anything visual?"

Barriss shook her head slowly. "No, nothing visual."

"Nothing visual or nothing seen because it was all black or cloudy or whatever?"

"Nothing visual." She reaffirmed.

Chopper bit his nail.

"Then whatever you do, it will have to be sound and it will have to be related to the battlefield. Those are his rules." He glanced up slightly, looking at Commander Barriss' lips and her small tattoos; not into her eyes.

"What were your rules, Chopper?" asked Barriss softly.

"Not your concern is it, Commander?" he said quietly as brought up his fist and clutched the coffee cup. "What about the red-marked man? Do you do anything for him?"

"I tried. I think that within a week, he'll be yellow."

Chopper shook his head, made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "Yellow's no good either. It just means they'll test you and if you don't pass their standards, you'll be downgraded to red marked sooner or later."

"He'll pass." Barriss asserted. Chopper got the idea that she had just decided to double-check and make sure he passed. 

_ Generous _ , he thought.

Ahsoka could see the stress Chopper was feeling. If he held the cup any tighter, he'd crack the thick duraplast. His eyes were flickering around the room like a trapped animal's. Tension was heavy on his shoulders and his face was tight, the muscle in his jaw jumping.

Barriss reached her hand in the air between them. Chopper leaned back, then set his elbows back on the table. She wasn't reaching for him, wasn't using the Force. She was … remembering. Remembering something.

"Geonosis." She said suddenly. "It sounded like Geonosis. Like the battles and the sandstorms flung together. And the sand. I can feel the sand." She sighed. "No surprise there. We've all just come from there."

Chopper tilted his head, half down to look at the table and frowned. "Commander Tano, was Geonosis his first battle?"

Ahsoka thought a moment, then nodded. "Yes. He was right off Kamino just two days before."

"First battle is the hardest," explained Chopper as he rubbed a knuckle on the bridge of his nose, between his eyes, hard so that it hurt. "We know the drills; everything is all perfect in the memory. We think we know how everything will go down. But it doesn't happen that way and sometimes the mind rebels at all those memories of how things should go, not going the way they should. Like remembering what happened yesterday, but finding out that's not what happened." He groaned. "Don't ask for some things to make sense."

For a few moments, they thought in silence.

Ahsoka sighed. She wanted Keel to come home so badly. "I wish we could just tell him to come home, the battle is over."

Barriss nodded.

Chopper froze. Both girls looked at him.

"Order him back," said Chopper suddenly.

"What?" said Barriss and Ahsoka in tandem.

"Order him back," Repeated Chopper. "It's verbal. Something you'd say on the battlefield. It's both flash processed and a drilled response for him to respond to."

"It's bred into us," Barriss quoted Tiess' thoughts, "to follow orders both explicit and implied."

Chopper nodded. "Bred, trained, drilled, programmed." He said bitterly. "All of it leading to men with damn little choice." He looked at the wall away from them, then at his hand on the table. "If you order and he can, then he'll have to respond. If he can't," Chopper paused, spoke so soft they weren't sure they heard him correctly, "kill him.""

"I think you have it, Chopper." Commander Tano stood and Commander Offee followed her lead. Chopper started to stand, but Ahsoka shook her head and motioned him to sit. Softly she reached out to touch his hand. He had it palm up by the mug and she gently touched the tips of three fingers. Through the glove, he imagined he could feel her warmth.

Had he been red marked? He didn't remember. Sometimes he thought so. Geonosis I, his first battle, still raged in him, around him. Whose scream had that been, so loud in his ears that it still hurt? His fingers clenched inside his gloves and he looked at where she had touched him – on the tips of his fingers. She knew it was about as much as he could take. Slowly that hand unclenched and Chopper grabbed those three fingers with his other hand, imagining her warmth spreading throughout his body.

Chopper reached for his talismans against this nightmare. Once that talisman had been droid fingers that had deceptively told him he was strong. Now the talisman was the image of three figures in his mind. General Skywalker who gave good praise for a good job. Captain Rex who was fair, and saw him worthy of trust. Commander Tano who looked at him and not his scars, who saw him as an individual, and not expendable. In the battle that raged, they fought with him, beside him, shouting their words of encouragement.

* * *

 

Barriss turned to Ahsoka as the strode away from Chopper. "He flinched when I asked to see his file."  Her voice was low and Ahsoka was sure no one else had heard her.

"Chopper is a very private individual. He would have flinched if you'd reach out to touch him. He would flinch or find an excuse to put on his helmet if you tried to look in his eyes. But I think he's right about ordering Keel."

Barriss snorted. "This man has been tortured. Was he a prisoner of the CIS? To tell us to kill his brother is unpardonable."

Ahsoka was quiet for a moment then spoke. "He was a prisoner of the traitor on Christophsis. He was being set up to take the blame for the traitor's acts and mind tricks were played on him for several weeks. Then he was court martialed for... something else... and the board did not take that manipulation into consideration. Chopper was stripped of everything he'd earned. He's not even eligible for promotion for three years. And with a court martial behind him he's unlikely to get one." She looked at Barriss. "Many of the troopers dread being incapacitated and would rather die in battle. Perhaps Chopper thinks Keel feels that way."

"He has nightmares." Barriss considered.

"I know. Sometimes I can't meditate when he's asleep."

"In the day, also. When he's awake." Barriss became indignant. "He should not be on the battlefield."

Ahsoka smiled. "You haven't seen him on the battlefield or on assignment. The nightmares stop and he is efficiently occupied. And I do mean efficiently and about as..." She paused, Chopper didn't get happy. "About as satisfied as he gets. You saw Directive 344 when it came out several days ago? About targeting battle droid weaknesses?"

"Yes, it was excellent work and Gree called it the only Directive he'd ever seen worth reading. He has already set up training according to the Directive protocols."

Ahsoka smiled. "That was all Chopper's work. He's working on an updated version to include droiddekas as well as a request for commando droid vids."

She glanced back at Chopper's table. He sat there, alone, his shoulders stiff, rubbing the fingers she had touched.

* * *

 

He was sinking in the sand, the wind blowing it into his mouth, his eyes, his ears, his nostrils; blowing it into his mind.

His armor was gone, disintegrated by the whipping sand.

He'd lost his weapon somewhere and had been trying to dig it from the sand when the sand has started to swallow him.

It pulled him under. It stripped his skin. He couldn't find the blaster. 

If only he could find the blaster! The sand pulled, sucked, swallowed. He leaned forward, trying to climb from the sand. 

He screamed as  _ something _ clawed at his legs and his feet; pulled off his skin. He clawed for the surface. Sand had stripped his skin and now scoured across his naked muscles. 

He needed the blaster. If he could only find the blaster!

Sand choked into his lungs, guttering into his screaming mouth.  _ Help me! _   But there was no sound, except the wind and the choking gurgles of sand in his mouth.

It was only when he heard Commander Tano's voice sharply call, "Trooper, report" that Keel jerked.

Her hand caught his as the sand pulled him down. She was stronger, with someone at her side. They grabbed him, pulled his hands and he grabbed back, his big hands over their small, strong fingers. He felt the grip of the sand lessen, give up, release him. They held him against the buffeting wind, though it tore at their eyes. The battlefield din quieted. The soft sobbing of his mind quieted, stilled and came his reply.

"Reporting for duty, sir."


	9. Reassignments

Rex tossed his new helmet on his bunk. He'd have to add his Jaig eyes but the electronics were updated. He'd already tested them against Torrent Company's standard encoding and channels.

His hand ached a little and he stretched it, rubbing it with his other hand. He moved the skin over the muscle, the bony knuckles, with his fingers, and looked at his hand. A few red burn scars showed on the knuckles. He expected that, the skin over joints scarred easier. He flexed the fingers together in a fist, slowly, a finger at a time. Nodded, satisfied, then stretched his fingers and tapped an imaginary keypad code, again satisfied. He tested his shoulder as well, swinging it slowly forward and up, nodded, satisfied. You always came out of medical feeling odd; not sure your body would function at it should, as it always had in the past.

He'd paint the eyes on tomorrow and he smiled as he saw his cleaned armor in its rack by the door. Someone had collected it from the battlefield and Kamino for him. He nodded. Officers take care of their men, and the men take care of their officers. His men were good about that, taking care of each other. Then he sighed.

Torrent Company needed more men. There was a pathetically thin list of experienced men ready to transfer to a new unit. Ideally he wanted an even mix of rookies and veterans. It didn't look like 'ideally' was going to happen. Gree had offered, but Rex knew that Gree was short of men also and had refused.

He'd go back to Kamino tomorrow to check training.  He'd see if he could track down any trainers he'd known and try to get some choice rookies in place of experienced men. Maybe even a failed ARC; there was no shame in failing that. Maybe he'd rotate his experienced men through each rookie squad for some time.  Maybe he'd assign himself a rookie squad. He considered his alternatives.

The commlink beeped and Rex tapped it to hear General Skywalker's voice.

"Rex," Knowing Rex was awake hadn't been the Force; the general had seen him in the hallway just minutes before going to his own quarters. "I just checked my messages and got one from Kit Fisto. He said he has a few men open to transfer to Torrent Company. He said since they were recuperating at Kamino we could pick up whichever ones we felt would be a good match with no transfer time."

"That sounds interesting, General, and promising. I'd like to check their files first. Not that General Fisto would give us his dregs, but integrating new clonetroopers and squads into a company can be a delicate task."

"I know. I'm forwarding you those files now." Rex heard the general manipulate the holo. "He also mentioned there was one sergeant he'd be really be sorry to see go."

"Now that does sound promising. I'll give it a look immediately." The General signed off but before Rex could tap the data pad his holocom sounded again, this time ship-to-ship. Gree's message was short, as usual.

"Check your messages, _vod_." Then the blue image flared out. Rex tapped the data pad for incoming messages.  He gaped at the screen.

The entire page was full of messages, most with the subject header some variation of 'reassignment' or 'volunteer'. He flicked to a second page to find it half full of the same.

Opening one of the messages at random he saw a clone in his armor, dinged and darkened from battle.

"CT-65-4321, Countdown, sir. Currently at Kamino, green-marked return to unit, serving with the 327th. I am willing to transfer to help fill depleted ranks. There are no objections to my transfer and my captain has included my files under key for your inspection." Rex closed the holo and opened the file Anakin had forwarded from Fisto.

"Greetings Captain Rex." The Nautolan's broad grin greeted him. "We must discuss this one day because I would like to know what happened to make six of my wounded men on Kamino, volunteer for transfer to Torrent Company. All on the same day." Fisto's image gave a laugh followed by a rueful shake of his head, and then he continued more solemnly. "I know you suffered devastating losses recently, particularly at Teth. I am proud to share my best men with you. And, these are some of my best men. I have provided their files and should you have any questions you may certainly contact me directly at any time."

The holo went directly to a clone trooper, the sergeant by his markings and his stance.

"CS-1084. Denal," spoke the blue figure. He removed his helmet; the face was the same as any other clone but the expression, there was something familiar in that expression.

"We met in a ward room on Kamino. I was suitably impressed with a commander visiting her men; bringing information, appreciation, recognition of a job well done." 

Rex smiled, recognizing him. 

"I was more impressed with a Captain who knew when to call his commander down, knew when to tell a joke, knew when stripping skin off some trooper wasn't going to be any help at all. I was impressed with you, sir. I want to serve in your company."

Rex flicked off the holo and leaned back in the chair, wondered if he should get some caf. It was looking to be a long night. He smiled and stood. A long,  _ good _ night. Yes, caf and then looking through files of experienced troopers for his company. 

'Ideally' might become a reality.


	10. A Short Discussion between Commander and Captain

Ahsoka was asleep; her untouched cup of tea in front of her, her head relaxed on her folded arms. 

Rex shook his head and looked at her. Did she understand what she had done? What she and her friend, Barriss had done?

Echo had reported what they'd done in his ward, leaving the ward totally green-marked. Kix told what had taken place at the bacta tanks, including their response at his nudity. His description of the girls' reaction had brought a chuckle to Rex. Tank and Naf stood with Kix, nodding agreement and smiling wide as Kix spoke. 

Even Keel, the side of his head raw and red, had told Rex, "She ordered me to report, sir."

Of all the men in Torrent Company that had walked the canyon of enemy fire, they'd all come home. She had given him back all his men.

He'd have to find some way to say thank you, some way to thank the healer padawan of General Unduli. Some small token that would never come close to showing his gratitude.

"I'm glad you're here, Captain," the trooper was saying. "I didn't feel right, leaving the commander here asleep. But I didn't feel any righter about picking her up and taking her to her cabin. I've got duty coming up in ten; otherwise, I'd just stay."

"I'll stay," Rex told the trooper as he sat at the table. "Just stop by my cabin and bring back a blanket for her and my data pad. I've got some work to do and might as well do it here.

Rex tucked the blanket around Ahsoka's shoulders then sat next to her reading through the list of volunteers. A few mentioned the commanders' visit to their ward, healing either the man himself or someone else in the ward. He'd already marked Fisto's sergeant for transfer along with three other men from his unit. They'd be coming aboard the Resolute in several hours along with some Kamino rookies suggested by Master Shaak Ti. He had check records of several other men and had pulled Countdown on Echo's recommendation. Most clones didn't have the initiative to ask; he had.

He noticed when Ahsoka woke, her eyes half-lidded with a soft smile on her face. She put a hand on his leg, a surprisingly intimate yet gentle touch.

"Rex," she murmured. "Can you tell me about red-marked men?"

Blackness and pain squeezed around him. The caf turned sour in his mouth. "I can't say."

"Hmmm," she breathed, mostly asleep. "I'm sorry. Does it hurt if I ask you if you believe that being red-marked is bad."

He considered that question. The pain was in the background, waiting but not active. "No." he said, somewhat experimentally.

"Is it your belief that being red-marked is bad?"

He tried that one in his mind. Again, the pain waited for a trigger. "I think I would say yes to that belief."

"Would that belief be based on what had already happened to the trooper or would that belief be based on what you believed would happened in the future to that trooper."

"You've given this some thought, haven't you?"

"None at all, Rex. But please, if you can without pain, let me know the answer."

"It would be what I believe of future possibilities, based on knowledge and experience with the Kaminoans." He answered the question but he also thought about reconditioning and the pain stabbed into his head.

She caught his flinch. "I said 'without pain', Rex."

He smiled wanly at her. "There was no pain for the answer. Just, my mind started wandering."

"I'm sorry." she stroked his knee softly. "This is your blanket, isn't it? I like it." She closed her eyes again as she buried her face into his blanket. "I'll figure it out, Rex. I will try to keep Torrent Company, whole and intact."

"You've done a very good job, commander." He put a palm self-consciously on her shoulder and gave a half-squeeze, half-pat. He wondered what there was to like about his blanket. It was standard issue. "You and Commander Offee have pretty much made it possible for Torrent to be at full strength with a two to three mix of experienced men to rookies. I know that the 41st also has some volunteers for its rosters from Kamino."

He wasn't sure if the noise that come from her was acknowledgement or a soft snore. He let his hand rest on her shoulder


	11. What a Padawan Teaches a Trooper about Generosity

Chopper lay in his bunk with the data pad and stylus in his hands. He'd woken from one of his nightmares. Rather than try to sleep, he decided to work on the battle vids, watching the droids. How they moved. and how they reacted to terrain and circumstances. But, mostly, what it took to bring them down.

Absently, he heard the holocom softly beep a personal message arrival. A few seconds later his thought processes came to a halt. That had been the default setting. The others in the room had personalized their settings. That could only mean the message was for him. He sat up, putting his bare feet on the floor. He hadn't received a personal message since joining the 501st. Sometimes Sergeant Slick had.., never mind, that was before.  That was the past and no longer relevant.

He moved to the desk slowly and sat, looking at the blinking light with a frown. It couldn't be good news. He ran his fingers over his lips. It was probably misdirected and not for him at all. That decided, he tapped the button and the blue hologram light flared.

It was the Jedi healer that he'd been introduced to yesterday by Commander Tano. His frown deepened as he set the holo on pause. She was probably going to ask for his medical file again. Healers were apparently like medics.  Persistent. Chopper sighed. Too many people already had access to his medicals and he often felt naked in front of them. The Kaminoans, the medical droids, the Admiral, the General, Commander Tano, Captain Rex, the medics, his old commander and captain from the 224th, General Kenobi. Too many people.

As company medic and as second under Rex, Coric had full access as well. Sergeant-medic Coric had asked if the other medics could have access to Chopper's file. It had taken Chopper three days and a talk with the Captain to agree. The Captain had merely said, "It could save lives, Chopper, for the medics to understand what happened to you."

He gave a soft moan of pain. He'd give it to her. 

But only the portions relating to the Geonosis injury. That was all she had asked about. As far as she knew, that was his only injury. She was only interested in the interplay of blaster and explosion on human flesh.

His decision made, Chopper nodded and played the holo.

Commander Offee's image began moving again and her voice spoke.

"Greetings CT 4523." Then she smiled. "Chopper. You know by now that Commander Tano and I were able to help Keel and he has probably already returned to the _Resolute_."

Chopper hadn't known. He was odd shift at the moment, but he nodded, pleased. It had been a hard assignment, but they'd ended up completing the assignment with no dead, no red and now, not even a yellow marked man. They'd all come home. That was good.

It was another talisman to be added against his nightmares.

She continued in her soft voice. If he listened well, it wasn't that similar to a Kaminoan's. "I wanted to let you know that we could not have done that without your help."

Chopper grimaced and turned his head. He hadn't helped. He'd barely been cordial to her in the mess.

As though it were ship-to-ship live she answered that thought. "You did help, Chopper. Never doubt that. We could not have understood what we were seeing, what was going on inside Keel without your help. Without you to tell us about drilled in responses, we would not have been able to bring Keel home."

Her saw her pause. "I would not have understood how to help the other man in Keel's ward. I would not understand how to deal with it when it happens again in the future."

She was more generous than she appeared.

The image turned for a moment and fiddled with her image console. She then turned back to him and continued.

"Commander Tano tells me you are the author of the newly released Directive 344. General Unduli was impressed with that Directive as was Commander Gree. Already we have begun the protocols for teaching it. I have spoken to both and they are in agreement. General Unduli has authorized you complete access to all battle vids from the 41st. The link is embedded in this hologram."

She smiled. At _him_. "Thank you, Chopper.

Her imaged faded to the link information and his fingers flicked the link to data pad electronically. Chopper saved the message. He knew that when the nightmares got bad, he'd like to listen to that soothing voice speaking those words of appreciation and approval and promise.

He thought about it for a moment. She hadn't asked for anything in return. He went to his helmet where his copy of the file chip was kept and slipped it out, taking it to the holocom. For a moment, he thought about sending her only the medical information. He had no doubts that she knew about his nightmares.

He ended up sending it all, giving her everything he was.


	12. What a Clone Medic Teaches a Padawan about Non-Attachment

_ There is no emotion, there is peace. _

_ There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. _

_ There is no passion, there is serenity. _

_ There is no chaos, there is harmony. _

_ There is no death, there is the Force. _

—The Jedi Code (Based on the meditations of Odan-Urr)

_ Emotion, yet peace. _

_ Ignorance, yet knowledge. _

_ Passion, yet serenity. _

_ Chaos, yet harmony. _

_ Death, yet the Force. _

—The Jedi Code, Old Form

_ Emotion, yet peace _

Barriss meditated, simply perceiving her body breathe gently in and out. The currents of space flowed in much the same way as the blood in her own body. She wasn't tired though she should have been after all the healing she'd done. Yet, it had seemed as though the gratitude of the clones had been like The Force – energizing her. It was pure gratitude, freely given as she had given healing, expecting nothing. The scholar, Odan Urr, had it wrong. Not the oblivation of emotion, but the thorough expression of emotion as implied in the far older form of the Jedi Code.

_ Out of emotion comes peace. _

 

_ Ignorance, yet knowledge. _

She had decided she would make sure to visit the medical units whenever and wherever she could, especially and Kamino with its aura of desolation and pain. She hadn't realized there was so much she could help with. She knew now. Healing in the way she had, alone, had taught her strengths, had shown her so much from a physical standpoint about the body. 

More, it had taught her that even the simple - a mere touch, a friendly visit, reading a book - could heal.

_ From ignorance came knowledge _

 

_ Passion, yet serenity. _

She had been concentrating on the clone medic, Kix. Helping clear his lungs, but also watching throughout his body, making sure that levels of various elemental cellular nutrients were within healthy levels, making sure the spasms of his lungs were normal and needed. She had seen the blood traveling to his extremities and knew it as a normal reaction coming out of the tank as the blood moved to warm the body.

She blushed in her meditation with a gentle smile. One extremity in particular of Kix had received more blood than its rightful due and she, touching him with both the Force and her body, knew the cause.

He had looked at her and found her beautiful. He had touched her mind, found her desirable, and found her as his heart's need. 

Barriss stored that small memory of how she looked to him in her heart like the precious jewel it was. 

He had looked at her, felt her touch his mind and opened his soul to her. The other men had stepped back to let her work, Kix had stepped forward, actively questioning and presenting her with his strength. She had fallen into the core of his being and given him her own. 

In a brief instant, he had owned her, known her, wanted her, loved her, would never forget her, had given his self to her unreservedly. She had matched him, giving him everything she was and having done so, felt a peace that would never leave her. She knew he felt the same peace. 

It would be something for both of them to return to in darker moments and times, a gift they had given each other.

_ Passion brings serenity. _

 

_ Chaos, yet harmony. _

And then, he had let her go. Not regretfully, but with joy for having met her. Because she was a Jedi and he was a clone, there was no choice for either of them. Because there was no choice, there could be no regrets. Because there could be no regrets, there was no hesitation. The decision made became the intention; and the chaos of possibilities became a single action.

_ With a simple tilt of perspective, chaos was harmony. _

 

_ Death, yet the Force. _

She understood what the men had meant when she'd heard those words;  _ I've got your back _ . She understood their trust and hoped she could fulfill it.  There would be no recriminations from them if she failed. She understood the appreciation and joy from her troops. There was no attachment there. Clones owned nothing except their names and their promises. She would give them her name, she would give them her promise. A tear, unnoticed, ran onto her cheek.

_ Death was eternal, the Force was eternal. _

 

_ So were the emotions and thoughts that danced in all intelligence. _

Barriss would never question General Unduli about non-attachment again. There was no need.


	13. What Ahsoka Learns from Chopper about Red Marked

Ahsoka found Chopper at his usual table reviewing the vids from the 41st Elite. Somewhere, they'd encountered commando droids. She caught an aura of contentment around him as she set a cup of hot caf in front of him. Most of the time Chopper had no idea how long he'd been there when he reviewed the vids. At this hour, he was the only person in the mess.

"Hey, Chopper, how's the vids coming."

"This is very good." Chopper marked something with the stylus in his gloved hands. "Much better than Fives' encounter at Rishi."

"Can I ask you some questions?"

Her voice had been soft and hesitant and he looked up from the data pad, almost but not quite looking into her eyes. He thought for a moment. Whatever it was, it was going to be hard and she knew it. He nodded.

"When I was on Kamino I saw Commander Gree. He said he was there to sign off on some red-marked men."

She saw Chopper still, set the data pad aside and place both hands around the mug of caf. His face tightened but he nodded.

"I asked him about red-marked men and he said 'I can't say." Chopper slowly took a drink from the mug and Ahsoka continued. "Later I asked Rex about red-marked men and he said the same thing. Exactly. They both looked like it hurt even to think about it."

"It does." Choppers voice was soft, almost inaudible, but Ahsoka heard him. Through the Force she felt no spike of pain in him so she continued.

"On Kamino, I remember some things the technicians said and they avoided the same words. But, I noticed you mentioned red-marked when Barriss and I were talking to you. You seem to be able to converse about the red-marked men when Commander Green and Captain Rex can't. Why?"

He looked over her shoulder then dropped his head to look at his gloved hands around the mug. One hand slowly came up to the scar on his head and he brushed his fingers against it then took another drink without saying anything as he thought.  He took a glance around the mess, ensuring there was no one else around, then began speaking.

"When I left a chunk of my brain on Geonosis," He saw her wince at that raw phrase. "I also left most of my inhibitors and a good deal of my flash training. It's one reason why I won't go to Kamino. They'd find out I don't have inhibitors."

"What are inhibitors?" She knew what flash training was.

"Programmed commands that inhibit or prohibit behavior, including speech, action and some kinds of thoughts. Violating them is painful or else you just kind of stand there and freeze up. Have you asked a regular trooper about red-marked? Check his reaction and you'll see what I mean. Either they'll blank out on you or they'll get all stuttery and scared, without being able to explain why. I think there are inhibitors that make them forget about it. Otherwise, no one would ever return to Kamino." He lifted the mug to his lips, took a drink of his caf then continued.

"Command and medical have to deal with red-marks, sign off on those men. So maybe those inhibitors are modified in some way; but only modified not removed." Chopper took a deep breath, looking at the imaginary horrors on the table in relief. They were less terrible than the horrors of his memory. "We have inhibitors against suicide, against interrogation, against revealing orders, against self-damage. We also have inhibitors against discussing things the Kaminoans don't want to be common knowledge."

"What does red marked mean? What happens to those men?" Ahsoka leaned forward, her hand reaching for but not touching him.

Chopper's voice was emotionless. "They get reconditioned."

"What does that mean?"

Chopper gave a short, brutal laugh. A clone's worst nightmare and she had no idea of what it was. His body jerked as he almost stood to leave; _she didn't need to know this, shouldn't know this_. He realized then that some inhibitors remained but they were weak. 

She had asked. More, he knew that she was concerned. He knew that she cared about them, about her men. She never called them clones, she called them 'her men' or 'trooper'. She knew their names, their armor, their expressions.

"No one knows, exactly." He bowed his head, rotating the mug in his hands. "Some wounded men stay red marked for a long time. Months. Sometimes they get a final check test, sometimes not. Then they're remove and never seen again. We've all got our little theories, but we can't talk about them."  He shook his head.  "We don't _want_ to talk about them."

"What do you think happens, Chopper?" Her voice was soft, little more than a whisper.

His mouth was suddenly dry and even a drink of caf didn't help. He dropped his head, his hands shaking. "Ultimately?" His voice was hardly above a whisper. ""Ever notice how there's no lack of transplant parts on Kamino. How so few clones get cybernetic parts and almost never a CT?" He glanced up, into her face. "Not local med units or Kaliida; just Kamino."

"Chopper, no." Her eyes widened in shock and she shivered.

He relented. "Maybe I'm wrong." He looked down again at the table, at the data pad, at her trembling fingers clutching the table. He wished he could take back what he'd said. 

"I want to be wrong." _He should have gotten up; should have gone_.  No, those were the broken inhibitors whispering in his head.

He was quiet. Then his face twisted. "There's more. After Geonosis the first time, I was in a Kamino bacta tank for two weeks. Normally, you only need up to one week, but this was the beginning of the war and it wasn't too crowded." He glanced up toward her face, avoiding eye contact. "We were getting more fatalities then. Practice is good on Kamino. But practice isn't real no matter how good. So they let me pickle a little longer than normal." His voice was bitter. Her fingers came close to his, but he fisted his fingers around the mug and pulled it closer to his body. She let her hands rest on the table.

"Not to heal me." Chopper continued. "They didn't think I'd survive. But as an experiment, just to see what would happen."

He sucked down a gulp of caf. The commander didn't move, her look one of horror.

"Experiment?" she whispered.

Chopper nodded. "You can hear inside of a bacta tank, you know."

Ahsoka nodded, her face pale. "Didn't they didn't let you sleep?

"A quarter of the day to sleep, three quarters awake." Chopper continued. "When they brought me out, I still felt …wounded. Missing something I needed. I don't know." He sat back, shaking his head, back and forth, as though looking for an escape. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you this."

"Then who, Chopper?" she asked and he heard the tears in her voice.

_ No one _ , he thought,  _ no one. No one should know, no one should care. Just a clone. Interchangeable _ . He gripped the cup, knowing those voices in his head as a lie. His voice was barely a whisper as he continued.

"When I didn't die, they discussed what to do with me. Whether I should be sent back out in the field immediately or should have more training or if I should be reconditioned." He shivered and couldn't seem to stop. Ahsoka had to stop herself from grabbing his hands. Instead she moved her hands on the table, within his reach, if he wanted to touch her. His hands didn't move away this time and his body leaned forward.

He continued softly, still shaking, still gripping the cup. It cracked then shattered. A shard pressed into his hand at the base of his thumb. Blood soaked into his glove, dripped to the table with the small puddle of caf. He didn't' notice.

"They discussed reconditioning me. In front of me – all nakedly on that lift. Helpless. So clinical talking about..." Chopper's face twisted and he put his hands over his face as if to deny what he was saying, what he was remembering.

"Trying to decide if they should wipe my memories first. Like I was a droid. Flesh-droid." Chopper's was panting like a chased animal and he fisted his hands, wiping off a streak of blood with his forearm. "Should we wipe the flesh-droid?"

He looked at her face, at her lips. There were tears gathering in the corners of her mouth.

"They aren't good memories but what am I without my memories?"

He leaned back with his eyes closed, he could hear them … still talking. Judging. Deciding his fate. If he listened harder, he could hear his commander's uneven breathing as she sucked back sobs.

"Is what I remember what really happened? Am I real or just a personality flashed into some random body?" He asked softly. "I think I'm me, that my experiences are  _ my _ experiences, that my memories happened to  _ me _ ."

His voice became stronger. "The Captain has promised that he'll make sure I never go back. I'll eat blaster before I set foot on that planet." He looked at her, his brown eyes catching hers, giving her his soul. "I almost did the other day. But I waited, because I was sure the Captain would set it right."

"I'll make sure too, Chopper. I promise." She shuddered, tears running down her face. "For anyone I can. Med unit or Kaliida."

_ She was crying _ , Chopper thought.  _ Hurting _ . When he hurt, she touched his fingers.

Chopper reached out his hand and, very gently, wrapped his fingers around hers.


	14. What One Trooper Teaches Another about Perfection, Trust and Fear

Tag wasn't happy. This was his first training exercise with his new assignment and, so far, it wasn't bad. They called him 'shiny' and 'rookie', but they called all the new clones out of Kamino the same and there was nothing malicious in the tones of the more experienced men. There were a lot of rookies, but he'd heard that the 501st had been taken down to five men. The 501st had a good captain and a good reputation.

He was unhappy because he was a heavy gunner and they'd given him a blaster. The two heavy guns, Z6 rotaries, had gone to Caber, mid flank in one column and to a trooper tattooed with a 'five' who wasn't in position yet. He was standing toward the front of the column, obviously not a heavy gunner to Tag's discerning eye. He handled the weapon well enough, but Tag could handle it better.

"Not happy?" asked his new captain reading his expression. They were training in partial armor; no armor on the arms, no shoulder bells and no helmets.

"I'm a heavy gunner, sir. The best among my year group at Kamino."

"I know. That's why I picked you." The captain gave a nod to the trooper holding the Z6. "I hope you can manage to take his place in three or four months." 

The rookie's eyes widened. "Months?" Normally, he'd be in position within three days.

Captain Rex nodded. "And then, only if General Skywalker agrees. Otherwise you'll go mid-flank and alternate with Caber and Tank."

Tag had met Caber. Caber was a genuine heavy and they'd had a good talk about the relative merits of the Z6 and the chaingun. He hadn't met Tank yet, though he'd seen him in the mess, smiling and joking with his squadmates. Tank was apparently on some punishment detail, but wasn't taking it badly. Tag thought that spoke well of the man, the company and the general.

The captain turned toward the rest of the group. "Relax, gentlemen. I have reasons why I put you where you are. If you ever want to know the reason or request another position, see me during office hours. I'm not saying I'll change your assigned spot, but if I don't I might give you the reason." His head turned, inspecting the entire group. Tag nodded to himself as he moved into formation with the blaster. He sounded a good captain.

"This is our main formation for attack in most situations. Standard double columns." Captain Rex gestured the lines with his hand. "General Skywalker and Commander Tano are One and the Two. I'm the Three – front and center.   Unlike most formations, where the heavy gunners are both mid-flank, we put some of that firepower up front to maximize its effectiveness." Captain Rex paused. "Our Four is heavy gun. Right behind the general."

Tag sucked in a hissing breath and took a hard look at the trooper holding the Z6. Like many of the other troopers, he was now sitting on one of the deck crates, listening attentively with the weapon by his side. Tag shook his head. That was too close. One little mishap and the general and his Two would be cut into pieces; probably the Three also. Being that close would handicap the range of the big gun. To avoid the One, the gunner wouldn't be able sweep the gun back and forth in a smooth arc. That would make the gun choppy to hold and that would increase the chance of an accident. It was suicidal of the general to permit that.

The captain must have heard that hiss and continued. "General Skywalker is unusual. He decides on his Four and, at the moment, that is Fives and only Fives."

The trooper gave a wide grin and waved at the other troopers. The captain shook his head and sighed. "If Fives goes down, the Skywalker's heavy gunner takes the Z and drops to the normal mid-flank position."

"Back to formation." He ordered and the remainder of the men lined up into the column formation. 

His new captain was inspecting the men in formation carefully. "Look ahead," he told them. "Do you see the wall marks? They were put there with the commander's light saber. Right there, you'll see the general's marks. There is some overlap. Those marks are the limits of their reach with their light sabers."

Tag glanced at the wall marks etched into the dark metal walls of the destroyer as the captain continued speaking. "Inside those marks, you are relatively safer. We've calculated the commander can reflect about 75% of front fire, the general about reflect 90%." He looked at them. "That's at the start of battle and it is fire originating from the front. As with everything but stupidity, there are limits. They can't reflect that effectively for long, nor can they cover front and side simultaneously. Sometimes they move ahead and it narrows the perimeter, sometimes they drop back. They do other things, use the Force to push droids or catch a man who has fallen."

Tag noticed two troopers slap another on his shoulders, all three with wide grins.

The captain noticed them and acknowledged their eager anticipation with a smiling nod. "It will take practice for you to find the pattern they work in, but trust me, gentlemen. You will find it."  He took his place at the head of the double-column and the exercise began.  Balls of light seemed to originate from the wall, shooting out into the troopers.  Some of the lights were fist-sized, others as large as an armor chest plate.  Tag followed the captain's commands; double-speed at times, all-out, shifting columns.  Tag kept his eyes on Fives, up front with the heavy gun.  He wasn't bad but a few times the training blasts had come too close to Captain Rex or the Z would jerk choppily in his hands.

"Hold," yelled the captain, raising his fist for those who didn't hear the command and they all froze in place, Tag like the rest of the troopers.

Then Captain Rex moved down the column, inspecting each trooper closely.  A couple he nodded or spoke a few words.  Sometimes the trooper would grin or perhaps he'd shift place.  One sighed and moved to sitting on a crate as the captain pointed him off the exercise field.  

Captain Rex stopped at Tag. "Notice anything?" he asked softy and Tag looked around.

"Uh, I'm outside of the line, sir?"

"You're probably dead like Flair." The Captain jerked a thumb to the clone on the crate then moved around Tag, visually measuring. "No, just wounded. Assume a blaster wound in this shoulder." The Captain's tapped him in the back then his hands pressed firmly on Tag's shoulders. "Down you go."

The new trooper went to the deck, cheeks red in embarrassment. As he sat, the captain pressed against his shoulder. "All the way down, trooper.  It wouldn't just skim your armor." Tag lay on the deck, blaster at his side and one hand on the imaginary shoulder wound.

Captain Rex turned to the remainder of the men in formation. "You experienced men may have noticed this in battle. If the enemy cannot get much firepower into the column, and we work hard to prevent that, they will snipe the edges. Furthermore, they will shot at the wounded, at men who've fallen or at corpses until the battlefield is full of … parts." There was a growl in his throat and angry grimness on his face. "The Geonosians took bets on how many pieces they could tear a corpse into with three shots or how far an arm would fly when it was hit."

Tag gulped.

"Therefore," the captain continued "when a brother falls, the two troopers nearest him grab and drag him to the nearest cover." He pointed to the two nearest men who grabbed Tag by the arms and pulled him over the decking to beside a crate, one grabbing Tag's training blaster.

"You'll do that faster in the field and in full training." The captain told the two as he turned back to the group. "This slows us down, but there isn't a single one of us who objects to that."

"Probably the Jedi," muttered another trooper, a transfer.

Captain Rex went nose to nose with him. "Who do you think gave the order?" His voice was soft. There was silence in the training deck and the trooper's eyebrows twisted in a frown then rose in surprise.  "Yes," repeated Rex.  "Our Jedi general gave that order."

"Fives," said the captain as he moved back to the front of the columns. "Take these troopers," he gestured to Tag and Flair. "To the medic. They need to learn what to do when wounded.  Hardcase, have some fun with the Z."

Fives handed the Z6 off to another trooper who moved to mid-flank with a big grin.  Fives gave his hand to Tag and gestured to Flair. "Come on, off to Coric."

Tag, Flair, and Fives walked down the hall in partial armor. Fives said nothing to either clone, though he did greet another trooper in the hallway and salute, with a smile, a Togruta youngling. He nudged Tag in the ribs with an elbow.

"Commander Tano." he said, both in greeting and to warn the shinies. Tag came to attention and saluted, Flair as well.

"Hi Fives, Tag, Flair." she smiled warmly, then gave the Jedi bow which substituted for a salute. "See you after lunch. I've got some new things to try out."

"Looking forward to that, Commander," smiled Fives.

"She knew me." Tag said, astonished the commander knew his name. Flair seemed just as shocked.  None of the rookies straight from Kamino had done their courtesy call yet, but she knew their names. "Is that normal?"

"It is for the 501st. If you prefer her or the general to use your designation, you'll have to ask." Fives had gotten a cocky grin on his face after the brief exchange with the commander, but said nothing, lost in his thoughts.

Tag was nervous at the silence and glanced at Flair who seem just as uncomfortable, so he asked a question. "Was the captain kidding about the body parts?"

"No." The reply was flat and Fives lost his grin.

"Oh." Tag blinked. They hadn't covered that in training on Kamino. You were trained that you could and probably would die in battle, that the best way to die was saving your brothers or obtaining the objective. But no one had mentioned anything about parts of you scattered around a battlefield.

Tag shook his head as though to shake out the image of himself scattered. "I bet the Jedi don't do the training. We just have to learn to stay inside the lines."

"You lose." Fives replied. "The General and the Commander are diligent about practice. Sometimes after practice we gather in the mess and just talk about how it went. Brainstorm new ideas. Critique each other." He looked at Tag and Flair with a grin. "Don't critique the general the first day. He hates it when a shiny critiques him because it's usually something we've already gone over. Ask me or the captain the first couple of practices."

"Then why weren't they there?"  Flair finally added to the conversation.

"This is just to teach you where to keep your feet and body. The easy stuff. The Jedis will be there after lunch. That's what the commander was referring to. You'll see what I do."  He nodded at Tag.  "It's very evident when the general is there and it's what you'll be expected to learn. Tonight, you'll both be so tired you'll be tempted to skip dinner so you can fall in your bunk. Don't skip dinner and take a hot shower for the muscle aches. We do it again tomorrow. We do it until we get perfect."

"What happens then?"  Flair had already discovered that Kamino-perfect wasn't the same thing.

Fives stopped mid-step and his eyes focused beyond what he saw. "When we reach perfection, we all get to come home." He spoke in an astonished, wondering voice. "We did it our last battle. No dead, no red. Everyone came home." He looked at the two new vode with a smile. "Perfection is hard to get. It's harder to maintain."

Tag thought about that and nodded. "Why do you get the Z?"

The trooper was quiet for another moment. "Perfect includes trusting your brothers, your captain. It includes trusting your general and your commander." He smiled at some memory. "It includes giving up control sometimes. Letting your brothers drag you to cover or pulling back so someone else can take over because you're injured or too tired or just the wrong person at the time."

They were at the door to the med unit, but he didn't open it.

"I carry the Z because sometimes General Skywalker takes control of it through the Force and I don't fight him.  I don't try to pull the gun into my control, don't try to second guess him. I trust him. He trusts me." Fives looked at the floor.

"It's like standing on the edge of a chasm with no bottom and knowing that everyone and everything depends on you learning to fly, real quick, with no wings. And then leaping out."  H e looked at the heavy gunner. "It's the scariest thing in the world to be trusted like that."


	15. What Two Vode Discuss One Night

"I say getting kissed was better."

Echo sighed but didn't refuse to be baited. This was their best argument in some time and, though Fives didn't know it, Echo had the winning hand. He looked up from his bunk where he lay on his side, his head cushioned in his palm as he read the manual before him. Fives was getting ready to go on duty whereas Echo had just finished. They'd be on different shifts for the next two weeks as they trained some rookies in ship's duties.

"Well, she read to me and sat next to me the entire time. It wasn't a short book." He added, temptingly, "She was very warm."

Fives laughed and arched an eyebrow. "Don't you mean  _ you _ were very warm?"

Echo puffed out his chest in mock indignation. "I don't think of her that way. She's a Jedi, our commander, like a kid sister."

"There's a contradiction in that." Fives buckled his fore and aft.

"Well, yes, but you know what I mean."

"I may  _ know _ what you mean, but I certainly don't believe it." Fives snorted to show his disbelief. "You don't think of her as a sister."

There was silence for a little while because Echo couldn't deny that, then Fives continued.   "You know that she said 'the next time I jump on her'…"

Echo rolled his eyes and turned, arms behind his head, looking up at the bottom of the upper bunk. "You've told me that. About five times every day since we left Kamino." It was his turn to snort.   "You ever show up without armor and Rex will pound you flat, then boot your naked self into space. You ever jump on her without armor, and the whole company will pound you flat and lay you out for a Seppie's rug. You ever approach her with that kind of intent,  _ she'll _ pound you flat and leave me to pick up the pieces. I will disown you, my brother."

"Yeah." Fives sighed deeply, a sheepish grin on his face. "But it's nice to think about."

Echo rolled to face him, smiled wickedly, the data pad manual resting in his fingers. "Not only was she warm, she was soft and she smells like," he paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if bringing her scent to memory, "like the sea."

"How would you know?"

"Oh, I've smelled the sea.  Been on Kamino, you know,"  Echo replied saucily.

"You know I didn't mean the sea, di'kut."

"While she read, she moved on the bunk, facing the other guys in the room so they could hear her too." Nonchalantly, Echo turned a page in the manual and seemed to study its contents.

Fives looked at Echo thru narrowed eyes. Echo glanced up in mock surprise as though he had thought the conversation done, then the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"I turned sideways so she could lean against me, against my chest, using it like the back of a chair. The bunk wasn't very wide. I really did have to hold my arm around her waist so she wouldn't slide off."

Echo leaned, then pulled himself up, his elbow on the bed, his face in his hand, his other arm resting in a curve in front of him. Letting Fives see the position he'd been in.

"It was comfortable for her. She was leaning against my chest, all soft and trusting me not to let her fall. She had the book in position where I could see it over her shoulder." Echo gestured in front of him. "I'd only lost some of the color vision.  It wasn't like I was totally blind. So I just had my face resting on her shoulder, in the curve of her neck.  Her lekku relaxed and tickly against my face."

He watched Fives' face as Fives started to picture it, played the punch line before Fives got there, smiling wickedly.

"A nice long snuggle beats a kiss anytime."

He laughed and caught Fives' bucket as it flew towards his head.


	16. A New Trooper for the 41st

Barriss stepped into the blind ward softly. There were only four men and, of the four, only one raised his head in recognition of her footsteps.

"Commander Offee," he asked softly, with a tentative smile. His head tilted as he listened. Then, as he looked in her direction; as he _looked_ at her.

"Hello, Tiess. I came to see how you were; what kind of progress you were making." She'd come at the instigation of one of Ahsoka's clonetroopers to make sure her handiwork was as good as she thought it had been.

He smiled widely and she knew. "Green-marked, then?" she asked and she drew nearer to his cot. She noticed the other men turned away from them, giving them as much privacy as they could give.

"Yes, sir." he replied, his Force signature overlaid with a blaze of sheer, unadulterated pleasure. "Full color, excellent peripheral, perfect vision, perfect adaptation speed." He grinned, "And I even like the color."

"What?" Barriss leaned closer in startled curiosity.

"Here, look." Gently he bent his head and carefully removed the bacta patches from his eyes. He looked at her with blue eyes, startlingly familiar. Slowly a smile appeared on her face, she blushed a soft jade.

"When I was healing you, I used my eyes as a template for the cells." she paused. "I was only thinking about vision, not aesthetics."

"Commander," he was serious now, earnest. "I can see. I can go on to my new re-assignment. I am, once again, a trooper, a whole man. You returned that to me. Pardon my saying so, but aesthetics be damned." He shrugged. "Besides, I do like having blue eyes. Sets me a little different." The corners of his mouth upturned.

"Aesthetics, as you say, be damned." she smiled. "I am pleased that I could be of assistance. Very pleased that it worked so well." Softly she placed her hand on his arm, a touch of comfort, of camaraderie. He froze, then softly touched her slender fingers with his larger ones, fingers made for a blaster, for war. They were surprisingly gentle.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you." His voice was low and as gentle as his fingers. His fingers moved away from hers. She let her hand drop softly from his arm and glanced around the room in slight embarrassment.

"He's yellow-marked." Tiess spoke softly and gestured his head toward a man. "The other two are green."

Barriss looked at the man, his back to her. There was an edge of tenseness in his shoulders, the uncertainty of not knowing. She nodded, before leaving she'd tend to him.

"Did you say re-assignment, Tiess?" she asked, conversationally.

It was his turn to blush. "41st Elite, sir. I come on-board in a couple of hours."


End file.
